God woke me up super early this morning with these thoughts running through my mind, so I suppose they are to help someone out there who’s struggling. I hope this letter, or FB “note,” encourages everyone out there – intended and unintended audiences alike.
Unintended Audiences
I’m sure it happens all the time in classrooms all around the world. Student A passes a note intended for Student B - only for it to be intercepted by the teacher. It’s actually quite the riot when the teacher is bold enough (and mean enough) to read the note in front of the entire classroom. It’s like a free pass into the secrets of that person’s life. The inner sanctum, if you will. The Holy of Holies, where everything is out in the open and raw before the presence of God and everyone else. But why, oh why, do people long (and maybe even love) to hear the content in the forbidden letters? Why do the unintended audiences gain more excitement from the note than the original audience? Because everyone (intended and unintended audiences alike) knows this fact to be true: Who people really are comes out in the notes they scribe. Anyone can put on a “happy face,” wear their “big girl panties,” or simply act like they like such-and-such to the intended audiences, yet the real face, the real attitudes, and the real feelings always show through to our unintended audiences. The people that we never planned on watching our lives are all of a sudden shocked. Appalled, but now sorely (and unfortunately) interested in what will happen next in the heated drama of our lives.
I say all that to admit: finding a note that was not intended for you is quite the intriguing classroom matter – especially when you’re the teacher of fourth-graders who start to blossom crushes upon one another in the spring time (Ahem, particularly the month of April). However, it’s a completely different story when the tables are turned and when the handwriting on the intercepted note is owned by you. I know because it once happened to me. That’s right. Once. To be honest, I wrote notes in school all throughout my middle and high school years and hardly ever (if ever) got caught. I maintained good grades and paid attention when necessary, so I thought I was doing alright. (Until I became a teacher and realized that I was “that student” as I was growing up. Hah.) But, the one time when my note was intercepted was when I was in the fifth grade. The sore details surrounding the situation come back to sadden me to this day. I remember spending tons of time writing out a note to one of my little girl friends at school explaining all the reasons why we mutually did not like (and thus made fun of) another girl from our church. Surely, my note was well-crafted. The details? Precise and exact. The delivery? Not. So. much.
I honestly don’t remember all the ins and outs of what happened with the note once it was intercepted. I only remember thinking, “There’s nothing wrong with the note. It’s honest. Nothing in it is a lie.” Even after I got caught, I still didn’t think there was anything wrong with my message. The only problem, in my mind, was the unintended audience. My school teacher wasn’t supposed to see that note. My friend’s parent wasn’t supposed to see that note. My parents weren’t supposed to see that note. Really, only one person should’ve seen that note, and all would’ve been right in my little fifth-grade world.
Buuuut as oftentimes it does, the problem ran much deeper than that. The unintended audience? Yes, they were inconveniences to my plan, for sure. But the true problem with the note was its message, and it spoke louder than I had expected because, you see, it told the inner sanctum of who I was. Aaaaaand???? what it told didn’t exactly portray the same sweet little girl I had acted out to everyone else that I was. The result of that note was a domino effect of destruction. My heart was revealed. Opinions changed, and people were sad by me. My teacher said she’d never expected something like that from Rosemary Hill. My parents were shocked. Surprised. But mostly, they were sorely disappointed in the little girl they had raised to “know better than to do something like that.”
As I write this, years (decades) later, the thought “what was I thinking?!” fills up my mind. Regret fills my heart. And tears fill up my eyes (literally). For that particular situation. For the fact that I did that oh-so-long ago. But I’m saddened not only for that; rather, I’m saddened for that fact that I’m still guilty of this two-facedness in some areas of my life today. Now, I know I’m not Catholic, and the people reading this aren’t my priests. The only confessions that need to be said are to the Lord in prayer, I know that. But I wonder…. Truly long to know….if someone, maybe anyone, could take my story of a great non-example and realize the impact you’re making on your unintended audiences. For you, it may be someone in close proximity to you, like…
… your kids/family watching and listening (when you think they are sleeping/not attentive).
… your co-worker who acts like he could care less about your “religion” (but is intently watching your lifestyle nonetheless).
…your Jesus (because you forget oh-so-often that He’s ever-present and always with you).
… or, quite possibly, it could be someone you never, ever expected or even dreamed about in your wildest dreams actually taking interest in the events of your life from-a-distance.
All that to say this…. Let me ask you (and myself) “If our life’s thoughts, feelings, attitudes, words, and actions were a series of little secret hand-written notes passed all around to our intended audiences and somehow were intercepted into the hands of unintended audiences, where would that leave the people in your life? Would they be shocked? Surprised? Sorely disappointed in who you are at the core? What stories would they be able to tell about you, and what would they say of your heart?”
Today, with your thoughts, feelings, attitudes, words, and actions, pass notes worth reading.
Your unintended audiences absolutely cannot wait to intercept them.
I took time to write a long comment about your unintended audiences but i see that somehow it must have gone to the bit bucket. :( I wish I knew what I had written because I would have loved for you to read it. Perhaps after I sleep I can recreate a truly worthy comment for such a insightful message.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was a boy i was the poster boy for unintended audiences. No one in my family believed anyone outside the room they were in could hear what they were saying, or it seemed that way. I learned that if i would stay just out of sight that I could learn a lot of things. Some things I wish I had never heard. There was very few family secrets that I did not know about.
ReplyDeleteThere were two things I learn from all this spying on my family. The first was if I wanted to keep a secret a secret I need not to talk about it. The other thing that I learned which has really helped me once I got older and started having a family of my own was there are always little ears hearing what you have to say, so always say only what is good to say.
Now I wish I could say that I have always said only that which is good but sad to say it is not true. But each day I am trying to do better. So when the unintended audiences tune in maybe, just maybe they will hear something good for a change.